


Blood and Breath

by princesskay



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blood Kink, Bloodplay, Bottom Hannibal, Established Relationship, JustFuckMeUp, Knifeplay, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Fall, Scarification
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 11:06:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7168529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will is intrigued by Hannibal's scars; Hannibal suggests he has room for a few more. </p><p>My submission for the #JustFuckMeUp kink fest on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood and Breath

Dusk descended to evening as the logs in the fireplace crackled and succumbed to the lick of fire and turned to charred, black lumps. Will watched the daylight fade to starlight while he nursed a glass of wine. He watched the fire eat away at the logs, analyzing the heat and sweetness of the alcohol and enjoying the scent of it when he breathed above the rim of the glass.

When the shower in the next room over shut off, he listened to Hannibal moving about the bathroom, only lifting his head when the sound of footsteps heralded Hannibal's entrance. Hannibal approached him, naked and dripping wet except for the towel clutched low around his waist.

He gently took the glass of wine from Will's hand and drew in the scent through his nostrils. “Merlot?”

“Mmm.” Will nodded.

Hannibal took a slow sip, chin tilting back to reveal the bob of his throat as he swallowed. Will watched with hazy eyes as several beads of water slipped down his collarbones and drizzled down his breastbone, catching in thick, silver chest hair.

Hannibal sighed and licked his lips.

“Good choice.”

He handed the glass back to Will and strode to the dresser. Plucking the towel from his waist, he patted moisture from his chest and face. Will set the wine aside and reclined on the bed, hands folded behind his head to watch Hannibal towel off. He enjoyed watching the smooth, tanned skin stretch over flexing muscle for several moments before his gaze paused on the the large, round scar in the middle of Hannibal's back.

“We should have died there.” He murmured.

“What's that?” Hannibal asked, glancing over his shoulder at Will as he pulled clothes from the drawer.

“Muskrat Farm.” Will replied, rising from the bed.

He crept up behind Hannibal, carefully reaching out a hand to touch the white scarring of the Verger brand.

Hannibal drew in a quiet breath, his hands pausing against the garments in the drawer.

“Mason wasn't deserving of our heads mounted on his wall.” He said.

“He was deserving of being remembered.” Will replied, dragging his thumb over that ominous name.

“Only because he marked me in a way I can never forget.” Hannibal said, his lips curling, “He was trying in vain to mark me in much deeper ways, but he could never quite torment me in the ways I tormented him.”

“I never saw everything he did to you.”

Hannibal pursed his lips, “Nor I, what he did to you.”

“I'm not sure it compares. All he wanted was my face … not my mind and body broken.”

“Mason's idea of torture was humiliation and pain.” Hannibal said, glancing over his shoulder at Will, “Pain is of the body. Humiliation is of the mind. You fight one with the other, deciding which one to take more readily.”

“Which one did you sacrifice?”

“My mind is perhaps stronger than my body.” Hannibal murmured.

“Did he succeed?” Will asked, his tone verging on perverted curiosity, “In humiliating you?”

Hannibal gave a grim smile, “Not before I succeeded in finding all the flaws in his plans.”

Will was quiet as he continued stroking Hannibal's wound.

“I have not considered Mason Verger or Muskrat Farm in depth in quite some time. It was one of many confrontations I won with both hands quite literally tied behind my back. If I have considered it, it has been in the rather cheerful light of victory.” Hannibal added, “Do you consider it often?”

“No, I tried to put everything behind me when I left the FBI.” Will said, not lifting his gaze from the brand.

“But you're thinking of it now.”

“I'm thinking that no matter how indestructible you consider yourself to be, you can't avoid the scars.”

“Does that excite you?”

“That you're scarred?”

“Yes.”

Will paused, licking his lips. He slowly withdrew his hand, blushing softly now, “No … the idea that you can be scarred excites me.”

“You want to scar me yourself?” Hannibal murmured.

He slowly turned to face Will, his hand slipping behind Will's neck and into his hair. The closeness of his body stifled the air in Will's lungs, and his nakedness drew Will's gaze like a magnet. He could hardly look up and into Hannibal's eyes as Hannibal pressed against him.

“I … I want to know that I can.” Will whispered, “I want to know I can scar you the way you've scarred me.”

“In some ways, you already have.”

A few moments of silence caused Will's wide, luminous eyes to flick upwards, latching ferociously onto Hannibal's.

“You mean the ones that aren't visible?”

“In time, they won't burn so intensely.” Hannibal whispered.

“How much time?”

“I'm not certain. They're deep and … aching.”

Will's lungs ached and his heart drummed a deafening beat in his chest. The black depths of Hannibal's eyes slowly reeled him in, moment by moment, pinning him helpless under the seduction he had succumbed to so many times.

“That doesn't curb your desire for my physical pain, does it?” Hannibal asked.

Will swallowed hard and took a step back. Electricity stood charged between them, and he could almost imagine the white and blue bolts pulling them together.

“No.” He whispered.

He shuddered as Hannibal clasped his face in both hands, forcing his chin up. His fluttering eyes slowly climbed back up to touch hesitantly against Hannibal's. His whole body flushed under the penetration of that searing gaze.

“How do you want to scar me, Will?” Hannibal asked, “What have you imagined?”

Will licked his lips, and shifted closer. His eyelids drooped heavy with lust as he focused on the soft length of Hannibal's throat, where he had fantasized so many times that blood could spill.

“What do you imagine, Will?” Hannibal repeated, his voice sliding like honey down Will's ears, “What do you think about doing to me when I'm underneath you, vulnerable, willing?”

“I've … I've imagined scenarios.” Will said, his voice coming out blunt and halting, “Hurting you.”

“How?”

“Cutting into you the way you've cut into me.”

Hannibal's grip tightened infinitesimally, but Will could feel it beginning to crush his jaw.

“Squeezing my hands around your throat until you can't breathe.” He rushed on, almost choking on the words, “Tying you down so you can't stop me.”

“Why would I stop you?”

The remark took the breath out of Will's lungs. His head jerked up to see Hannibal's face, just to make sure he wasn't laughing, that he really meant it.

Hannibal's expression was calm, smooth like the surface of a still ocean. Underneath, a rip current of desire tugged with drowning force. There was no lie in the depths of his somber gaze.

“You … you wouldn't?” Will stuttered.

“You want these things very much.” Hannibal observed, his hands loosening from Will's cheeks. His thumb lingered against the jut of Will's chin, “I won't cushion myself with transparent lies and say that I do not.”

Will took a step back, running his hands through his hair. His head spun, giddy anticipation and shocked confusion blending.

“This surprises you?” Hannibal asked.

“I've never met anyone who readily accepts unnecessary pain.”

“Pain is not something that frightens me. When used in a controlled environment, it can be quite pleasurable.”

“A controlled environment ...”

“Would you like to hurt me, Will?” Hannibal asked, “In this very moment?”

Will tilted his head, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“What's the catch?”

Hannibal's gaze lingered on him in silence for a few moments, before he turned abruptly and walked out of the room. Will uttered a sigh, and scraped a coarse hand through his hair.

He never regretted running away with Hannibal; he'd never felt more alive. Yet, between the scenes of fusing bodies and passion play, he wished for simplicity. They locked together like puzzle pieces, but all the corners were jagged edges and twisted shapes that barely made sense to anyone but themselves. Domesticity beckoned, but Will's darkest desires tugged them back toward the adrenaline and violence fueled days of blood and hatred that they had proposed to leave behind.

Hannibal returned moments later. Will didn't notice the folding knife in Hannibal's fingers until he brought his hand up and uncurled his fist.

Will's gaze darted between the offering and Hannibal's daring expression.

“What … you want …?” Will began, his voice choked by need.

“There's no catch,” Hannibal said. “Take it.”

Will licked his lips, and swallowed back the acidic taste of fear. Somewhere behind his initial hesitation, brutal desire that had no qualms about shedding blood lunged against it's cage.

Hannibal unfolded the knife. His fingers held the wooden handle loosely, offering Will to take it. The small but deadly blade glinted in the dim lighting, holding all the intent of their unspoken desires.

Will's hand held a tremor as he reached out to take the knife. Hannibal's fingers surrendered it to him, and retreated to moment Will's fingers curled around the handle.

Will gazed down at the knife in his hand, mind flashing and burning with a dozen threads of imagination that came as natural to him as breathing. Thoughts of blood edged his vision with red, pulsing need. Warm heat dropped low in his belly, stirring his cock and against the restraint of his jeans.

Will's eyes crawled up to meet Hannibal's patient gaze. Every inch of Hannibal's naked flesh called for Will's touch, the clench of power behind his fist, the razor sharp edge of the blade wielded by Will's primal desires.

Will took a rushed step forward, bringing their bodies flush, and the edge of the knife against Hannibal's throat.

Hannibal's chin lifted, exposing his throat and the pounding vein of his pulse. His breath rushed hot from his flared nostrils, caressing Will's flushing cheeks with the expression of his heightening arousal.

“How many times have you thought of this?” Hannibal whispered.

“Too many to count.”

Will's gaze focused on Hannibal's throat where the pressure of the blade blanched the sliver of flesh white. A bit harder and the flesh would break open under the blade.

“It's exhilarating, isn't it?” Hannibal said, eyes flashing dark and excited, “Having the power of life and death, and everything in between in your hands.”

“I don't want to kill you.” Will murmured.

“Yet the thought is inherently attached to the sight of the knife at my throat.”

“I'm more concerned with the 'everything in between'.”

“One little slip of the knife, and you'll no longer be wondering.”

Will withdrew abruptly, leaving Hannibal's breathing in shallow bursts and his throat pink and indented where the knife had almost sliced. Will's mouth formed a taut smile as he shifted his gaze down to notice the rising form of Hannibal's cock.

“Lie on the bed.” Will ordered.

Hannibal took a few steps back, keeping his eyes on Will, before turning around to walk to the bed. He laid back against the pillows, hands lifted in a submissive posture next to his shoulders. His cocked throbbed harder against his belly as Will approached the bed, knife dangling from his fingers.

Will shifted his gaze from Hannibal just long enough to take the bottle of lube from nightstand.

He tossed the bottle without prelude, and Hannibal snatched it out of the air with a lightning quick fist.

“Roll over.” Will said, “On your stomach.”

He climbed onto the bed as Hannibal rolled over. Hannibal's knees dug into the bed to arch his ass temptingly toward Will.

Will prowled between Hannibal's legs, and ducked his head to smear a hot kiss against Hannibal's ear and jaw. He slid the knife up underneath Hannibal's chin as Hannibal arched back against him, causing Hannibal's motions to freeze and his breath to catch.

“Open the lube.” Will whispered.

Hannibal's hands trembled as he brought the lube up in front of him and cracked the lid open.

“I want you to finger yourself.” Will said, pressing his mouth tighter against Hannibal's ear, “All the way open.”

Hannibal's breath came in halting bursts. He swallowed delicately against the pressure of the blade, wincing as it pinched against his Adam's apple. Pouring out a bit of the lube onto his fingers, he reached back to smear it between his ass cheeks.

Will's breath rushed hot and aroused from his throat as he watched Hannibal's fingers slide wet and trembling over his clenched hole.

“Good.” Will murmured, “Now, don't stop, and don't come. I want you all the way open for my cock.”

Will leaned back, pulling the knife away from Hannibal's throat. Hannibal gasped in a breath as the pressure released from his throat, but there was little reprieve. Will dragged the sharp edge of the knife along the curve of Hannibal's back, and up over the swell of his buttock. Will paused with the blade against the underside of Hannibal's asscheek, his eyes fixed on the swirl of Hannibal's fingers against the pink pucker of his hole.

“Spread your legs wider.” Will murmured, “Let me see.”

Hannibal grunted softly as he shifted his knees farther apart, until the tendons in his thighs were straining. Digging his knees into the mattress, his arched his back tighter to display the press of his fingers against his hole.

Will licked his lips as a hot wave of pleasure rolled through him.

“Good.” He whispered, his voice thick and hoarse with need.

He leaned over Hannibal's arched, trembling body, and brought the knife to the back of Hannibal's neck. He let the blade slip languidly down until it reached the bunch of muscles in Hannibal's shoulder. His nostrils flared sharp over an exhilarated breath as he pressed the knife down, slow and steady until a dark red bead of blood swelled under the tip of the knife.

Hannibal gasped. His fingers froze as the tiny sting of pain worked through his veins.

Will pulled the knife away, and watched as the small drop of blood spilled from the puncture in tiny line down Hannibal's back. Pleasure sizzled hot through his veins, the familiar high of power that came with the coppery scent of blood.

He ducked his head down to catch the drop of blood with his tongue, and followed the spill of blood all the way back to it's origin. He clamped his lips around the incision, dragging a moan from Hannibal's throat as he suckled blood from the wound.

Hannibal's hand lapsed from it's ministrations, body reveling in the pain of the knife and the delirious pleasure of Will mouth.

Will released Hannibal's flesh, and slid his mouth up to breath hot across Hannibal's earlobe.

“Don't stop.” He murmured, “I told you not to stop.”

Biting back a groan, Hannibal resumed his ministrations with a sloppy hand. His fingers slid across his lubed hole before finding the opening and slipping inside.

Will took the lube from him, and poured out a generous amount above the caress of Hannibal's fingers. The liquid spilled down over the press of Hannibal's finger, and into his hole as Hannibal pumped his hand harder. His finger slid in and out under the watch of Will's gleaming eyes, dragging a heated moan from both of them.

“God, that's good.” Will whispered, biting at his lower lip.

Hannibal dropped his face into the pillow as he pumped his finger fast and deep into his hole. He rolled his hips back against the pressure of his hand, arching his ass round and taut in the air. Will growled low, grabbed a handful of one ass cheek and stretching the flesh open to bare the motion of Hannibal's finger into his hole.

Will placed the knife softly against the middle of Hannibal's back, letting it hold the threat of more for several long moments. Hannibal's eager rutting faltered as Will let the edge of the knife slide down the curve of his lower back.

Will paused with the knife just above Hannibal's tailbone.

Hannibal's breath caught, and his hips stuttered against the push of his fingers.

“Will-” He began in a high moan.

The blade nicked into his flesh, leaving a small but stinging cut. Blood rushed to the surface, filling the tiny incision and spilling out to greet to hot swoop of Will's mouth. His tongue caught the tiny spill of blood, and lapped up the next bead that quickly swelled to the surface. He savored the taste of blood in his mouth, the sweetness of arousal overpowering the bitter coppery flavor.

Hannibal moaned, and dragged his fingers out and across his trembling hole. With Will's gaze focused on that part of him, he lined up two fingers and pressed them into the slick opening.

Will bit hard at his lower lip as Hannibal's fingers stretched his hole open wider. The flesh was flushed pink with need and friction, and it trembled and squeezed against the rough intrusion.

Will pushed against Hannibal's thigh, driving the rigid swell of his cock into the perspiring flesh and straining muscle. He ached deep within, as if a yawning chasm of fresh desire he had never discovered before opened inside him. His head spun with need and power, a reckless combination fueled by the sight of blood and Hannibal fucking himself open on his own fingers.

“Oh, fuck.” Will mumbled, dragging his hips harder against Hannibal's thigh.

“More, Will ...” Hannibal rasped.

He shot a hard, hungry gaze over his shoulder at Will. His lips were set in a plush pout, wet and pink and bitten from lurching need. The color blazed high on his cheeks, the perfect shade of unsatisfied desires.

“You know you want more.” He whispered.

Will thrust the knife to Hannibal's throat, nicking the underside of Hannibal's jaw in his haste.

“Yes, there.” Hannibal moaned.

Sinking his fingers into Hannibal's hair, he pulled hard to expose the length of Hannibal's throat. His throat bobbed hard, and his jugular pounded swollen and pink, beckoning the sting of the knife.

Will dragged the blade across the side of Hannibal's throat, opening up the flesh just enough to make him bleed.

Hannibal's eyes rolled wild and dilated, and his lips stretched open in a choked moan.

“Oh god … Will ...”

Will lunged down to taste the fresh blood, thirsty for the bittersweet taste, and the hot pulse of open veins beneath his tongue.

“Will, yes ...” Hannibal whined.

His hips bucked against his fingers, driving and eager to gape for Will's hard, aching cock. His own cock swelled huge and purple with full, bursting veins, the head pink and wet peeking past stretched foreskin.

Will lifted his head, lips gleaming with blood and saliva. His teeth flashed white in the dim light of the room as he smiled down at Hannibal's desperate rutting.

Pressing a hand against Hannibal's lower back, he added more lube to the slick mess of Hannibal's hole and pumping fingers. Hannibal's fingers slid out to reveal the open state of his hole. Lube slid down his cleft into the pink, trembling opening, and down the underside of his aching balls.

“Put your fingers back in.” Will ordered in a husky whisper, “Three of them.”

Hannibal slid his fingers along the inner swell of one cheek, all the way down to cup his balls before rising back up to caress the pink, puffy opening.

“Oh God ...” Will whispered.

He pressed back of his hand against his mouth, stemming another choked moan as Hannibal delved three fingers into his hole. They slid in at an agonizingly slow pace, pushing back the resistance of muscle and sinking all the way to the knuckles. His hips dragged up from the bed, meeting the pressure of his fingers with a trembling thrust.

Hannibal's eyes darted to meet Will's, eyelids fluttering and pupils dilated with need. Blood dribbled from the wound at his throat, leaving the curve of his Adam's apple slick and gleaming red.

Will bent down to taste the spill of blood. He lapped up the excess, and pressed his tongue against the incision, initiating a fresh flow of blood to the surface. Hannibal's moan vibrated up his throat and against Will's mouth.

“Oh, yes, Will ...”

With his lips clamped against Hannibal's neck, Will brought the knife between them, to the curve of Hannibal's back. He cut into the flesh with a soft flick of his wrist, leaving a wound two inches long and dotted with swelling beads of blood.

Hannibal's ragged gasp filled Will's ears like a favorite song. He sucked off the wound at Hannibal's neck, and breathed a rough chuckle into his ear.

“God, you sound so beautiful.” He whispered, “I could make you sing like this all night long.”

“I wouldn't have flesh left unmarked.” Hannibal panted, “I would be covered and bloody by your knife.”

“I'm just marking what's mine.” Will whispered.

He slid his gaze down to watch the curve of Hannibal's back, and the rotation of his hips as his fingers continued to pump into himself. He dragged the knife along the side of the newest cut he'd made, allowing the blade to slip in as if on second thought.

Hannibal gave a choked moan, and ducked his head against the pillow.

“I am yours.” He murmured, his voice muffled in the pillow, “Down to every last drop of blood that flows through my body … I would give it all to you if I could.”

Will hummed a pleased response as he lowered his head to lap up the tiny drops of blood spilling down Hannibal's ribs.

“I'm happy with the little bit I can taste.” Will whispered against Hannibal's flesh, “If I took it all, I couldn't have you alive … and I couldn't live with that.”

“So you cut me and scar me to remind yourself that you _could_ have it.”

“That you're just as human as I am.” Will whispered, “That I have the power to take it if I wanted.”

“You have more power than you know ...”

Will paused with the blade poised against Hannibal's ribs.

“You freely admit it.” He said.

Hannibal's eyes peered over his shoulder at Will's. They scintillated maroon in the bare illumination from the fireplace, both predatory and submissive.

“I'm the one who gave you the knife, wasn't I?”

Will held their gazes locked as he dragged the knife into Hannibal's side.

Hannibal winced, brow furrowing deep, then relaxing in simmering pleasure as the pain worked through him.

Will dragged his mouth through the sticky blood that spilled readily from the wound. It smelled sweet to him, like a garden of flowers blooming from between Hannibal's ribs.

“None of these are deep enough to scar very noticeably.” He murmured.

“They will stay for a short time on my flesh … but they will stay forever in your memory.” Hannibal said, “And when my body is clean and healed again, you can make fresh ones.”

“Does it excite you that much?”

“Doesn't it you?”

Will dragged his tongue over his lips, cleaning the blood from his mouth. Hannibal lay with his fingers still against his hole, no longer moving and grinding as he had been.

Will blinked slowly as his gaze consumed the whole of Hannibal's body for the first time since the encounter had begun. Flushed and pink in places, red and bleeding in others. A tremble coursed just beneath the surface, aching fissures of need waiting to split open in a explosive earthquake of pleasure.

All at once dizzy with need, Will couldn't wait any longer.

Dropping the knife to the bed, he tore out of his clothing, muttering curses at the buttons and zippers as they impeded him from being naked immediately. When the last barrier of fabric was gone, he grabbed the lube with a shaking hand, and poured out more than enough into his palm.

Hannibal's eyes sparked with need, and he arched his hips eagerly toward Will's cock before it could even reach the hot clutch of his body. He withdrew his fingers, leaving his hole gaping and empty, so pleasingly pink and ready.

Will palmed his cock with his lubed hand, and dragged the moisture up and down his aching length. Need pounded hot through his blood, sending signals of primal need to his brain that took over all other thought. His only focus was Hannibal's arching, primed body, and the promise of that sweet, velvet clutch stroking him to orgasm.

With his cock lubed and bucking against his caress, Will crowded between Hannibal's stretched open thighs, and guided the tip of his cock to Hannibal's hole. Hannibal rose from the bed, aching to meet the hot, blunt pressure of Will's cock.

Will grabbed a handful of his hair, and shoved his face down into the mattress, leaving his ass to arch up in the air toward Will's cock. Hannibal grunted into the pillow as Will's cock pressed against him, head slipping past the first clench of muscle.

“Oh god.” Will hissed.

Hannibal's body was slick and tender, and took Will's cock with little resistance now that he had stretched himself open so thoroughly. With a few controlled thrusts of his hips, Will was sliding all the way inside, hips meeting Hannibal's backside with a soft slap.

A tremble worked it's way through Hannibal's whole body as Will filled him. His hands clawed at the sheets, and latched onto a handful with white-knuckled fists. Blood pounding through his body filled his head with lust, his cock to it's fullest, and the cuts all over his back with fresh blood.

Will's hazy gaze took in the marks of blood, and his teeth snared his lower lip to pin back a gasp of pleasure. With only a few thrusts, his body was raging with need; the visuals of blood, sweat, and arousal crowded his brain, threatening him with orgasm he wasn't yet ready to accept.

Will's thrusts crept up against Hannibal's backside, forcing Hannibal to feel every inch of Will's cock sliding into him, every aching moment of being filled to the brim. The slow pressure rubbed against his prostate, shooting fireworks of pleasure behind his eyelids, and jarring him into a bucking tremble against Will's cock.

“Will, please ...”

Will grimaced a smile, and pressed Hannibal's face harder into the pillows.

“Go ahead, darling.” He murmured, “Beg me all you like.”

He thrust his hips hard against Hannibal, slamming his cock home against the tender swell of Hannibal's prostate.

“Christ, Will-”

The moan choked off into a pining whine as Will delivered a series of quick, hard thrusts, only to pull out abruptly and leave Hannibal's aching and empty.

Hannibal groped for Will's body, fingers swiping at his hip but closing around empty air as Will avoiding the desperate grab.

Will dragged his hand in a sloppy but brutal caress along the underside of Hannibal's ass cheek, balls, and finally, his gaping hole. Will pressed his fingers inside, first two, then three, and then all four as Hannibal's lunged against the sheets, open and moaning for cock.

Will pinned Hannibal down against the sheets with one hand in his hair, and the other on his hip. Straddling Hannibal's thighs, he pressed his cock between the plush swells of his ass cheeks. Hannibal yelped, hips bucking up from the sheets to meet Will's cock. Will's cock entered at an even steeper angle than before, sliding all the way inside, and giving Hannibal little leverage to control the depth.

Clutching Hannibal's hips up against him, Will plunged in at a hard, rhythmic pace. The slap of his hips against Hannibal's ass resonated through the room with only the punctuation of their choked moans of pleasure. Every thrust jarred a whimper from Hannibal's lips; every one that reached his prostate resulted in a high-pitched cry that made Will smile in devious delight.

“Will … Will ...” Hannibal moaned.

His fists clenched around the sheets, and his body stiffened. Will could feel the tremble ripple through him, the still clench of anticipation right before the fall into orgasm.

Will eased his pace to a constant rubbing motion against Hannibal's prostate, bringing the pleasure fully to bear on him. Hannibal's voice broke into a high-pitched, paper-thin moan that preceded the violent clench of his body.

Will panted a praise as Hannibal's hole clenched around him, and his hips bucked under the weight of Will's body. Hannibal moaned into the pillow, broken and unintelligible cries of pleasure strung together as the orgasm tore through him.

Will thrust gently until Hannibal's body relaxed underneath him, and his hole went soft again in the languid aftermath of climax.

Will pulled out, and flipped Hannibal's limp body onto his back. Hannibal gazed up at him, wide-eyed and flushed, his cock and belly smeared with his release. The sheets were damp where he'd come untouched, leaving the musky scent to linger thick in the air.

Will thrust back between Hannibal's legs, moaning as Hannibal's soft, wet groin rubbed against his belly. Ducking his head into Hannibal's throat, Will threw himself into a hard, driving pace that had the bed frame creaking, and both of them moaning in satisfaction.

Hannibal's throat tasted salty with sweat, and sweet with blood; the surge of his pulse spiked with lifeblood ready to give, ready to spill for Will's pleasure.

The thoughts of marking and scarring spun through Will's head as he rutted into Hannibal's warm, lax body. Underneath him, Hannibal felt neither strong nor indestructible, yet he transcended the state of mere, fleeting mortal Will saw the rest of the world as. Underneath him was something rare; something dangerous and clawed, but something rare and beautiful. Underneath him was a fountain ready to give, if only he tapped into the right vein. Suddenly, simplicity didn't seem so alluring after all.

Will climaxed with his face against the wound of Hannibal's throat, and his arms clutching Hannibal tight against him. The spasms rippled through him, tingles clutching hot and pleasurable through his cock as the release bolted hot and abundant from his body. Hannibal's arms wound around his neck, clutching him in a suffocating embrace until the pleasure had run it's course, and he was limp and humming with the aftershocks of pleasure.

They rested in each other's arms for long moments, listening to the rise and fall of their breathing, and slowing pump of heartbeats.

“I never understood why you enjoyed hurting me before.” Will murmured into the silence.

“If I've ever hurt you, it was because I was trying to help you.”

“Not because you liked seeing me in pain?”

“Not primarily.”

“That doesn't mean no ...”

Hannibal was quiet for a few moments before replying.

“After experiencing what you just did, you must admit to seeing the beauty in it.”

“I do.”

“Our scars remind us the past was real. I never forget who has given me the best of mine … But let's not focus on the past when those memories are already stitched into our flesh. We can focus on the new memories, the new pain that cuts to the bone – this time with pleasure awaiting us on the other side.”

“You know … I would forgive you if you admitted to hurting me for your own pleasure.” Will whispered, “I don't hate you for it anymore.”

There was another stretch of silence, but Will didn't have to hear Hannibal's response to know what secrets – and perhaps regrets – lay behind Hannibal's eyes. The pain of the past was a distant echo, void of the anger and passion he had once channeled so much energy into; ahead of them lay the sweet, beautiful ache of the present, and the burning reminder that between them, there would always be the sting of bittersweet pain – and that there was still so much more to come.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)
> 
> I'm also on [tumblr!](http://relentless-fire.tumblr.com/)  
> 


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